What's the Universe Getting Me Ready For?
Forgive my ending proposition, I am definitely paranoid
The Job Sitch
While I am thankful that they had the courtesy to let me know I wasn’t chosen, I’m frustrated that both of the jobs I would’ve enjoyed haven’t picked me. Given that I didn’t work at all for either of the contracts I’m currently on—one was reorganization within their company which made us contractors obsolete, the other hired a bunch of us as writers and then decreased the amount of work that would be released—I am just… yeah.
I’m trying not to think about the universe freeing up my schedule for serious health shit, but damn, if brain gremlins aren’t loud.
The Ultrasound
My ultrasound yesterday was painful in ways I’ve never had an ultrasound be painful, even with three kids. The tech did both external and internal scans, and she took lots of pictures. Peter went with me, which I appreciated.
Understandably, I’m not sleeping well. Between my brain and the pain, I am fighting the urge to just stay in my bed until things get better. No one in the house would think less of me.
Of course, that’s not really how life works, is it?
My Therapist Says I’m Not Crazy
It’s the little things, right?
I had therapy today, and my dudes, I cannot tell you enough how much better I feel after my session. Honestly, during my session, too. I talked most of the hour, and she was really good about encouraging me to get it out. And I only teared up a little.
So yay?
There’s just something about talking to someone with no agenda, whose sole purpose is to listen and guide you to positive forward progress. And while many of us have spousal units and friends who listen without a negative agenda, they are honestly too close to the situation. That’s why I encourage therapy for those who can access and afford it.
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